Potter and Black and the Prisoner of Azkaban
by xxxMarauders' Girlxxx
Summary: What if Sirius had a daughter named after his favourite cousin? What if she went to Hogwarts in her's and Harry's third year? POA because it's my favourite. Please write and review!
1. The Knight Bus

**Hi everyone! Please write and review!**

My name is Andromeda Emily Black. My father, Sirius Black had just escaped from Azkaban and that was why I had left New York and came back to England where I was born. My mother Emily Black had been killed by Voldemort when I was only one years old. I have an uncle but I have never met or seen him.

That was why I ended up walking along a random road, not knowing how far away from the Leaky Caldron I was. I pulled out my wand from the pocket of my favourite jacket and started twisting it around my fingers and kept walking.

A stick cracked somewhere in the distance and I held my wand up and looked around the street but nothing was there. Then –

BANG!

A large purple triple–decker was in front of me. A guy of around nineteen jumped off the bus. His face was full of pimples and he had quite large ears.

**"**Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening."

"Um hi, can I please get to the Leaky Caldron?" I asked uncertainly.

"Of course," Stan said." Eleven Sickles, but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

"Okay," I said, handing over eleven sickles and stepping up onto the bus. Stan lead me down to the end of the bus past sleeping wizards and witches to some unoccupied beds. I sat down on one.

"Let's go Ern," Stan tapped on the window behind him which had the front of the bus on the other side.

There was a large bang as the bus started up but not even ten seconds had passed that the bus had stopped again. Stan went to the end of the bus and a few minutes later came back with a boy around my age. He had _very_ untidy black hair and round glasses around bright green eyes. Just behind his hair I could see a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. I had the exact same scar on my wrist which I got the same night that my mother died and Voldemort had disappeared.

I knew at once who this boy was: Harry Potter.

Harry smiled at me and I smiled back.

**"**You 'ave this one," Stan whispered, shoving Harry's trunk under the bed right beside my bed and behind the driver, who I just realised, was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern and this 'ere is - "

"Andromeda," I said as Stan didn't know my name. "Well, hi _Neville,_" I added, emphasizing the word 'Neville'. Harry's eyes widened and he flattened his fringe to hide his scar even more. I shook my head to let him know I won't expose him and he smiled and mouthed 'thanks'.

**"**Take 'er away, Ern," said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie's.

The bus started up again and Harry was flat on his back and Stan was watching our faces in great enjoyment. Harry stared out the window.

"This is where we was before you two flagged us down," he said. "Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?"

"Ar," said Ernie.

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.

"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. "Don' listen properly, do they? Don' look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'."

"That's a bit insensitive," I whispered to Harry. He nodded while Stan was off in his own world.

"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan," said Ern. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute."

Stan passed both mine and Harry's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Harry was still looking out of the window. Ernie didn't seem to have mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.

Stan came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green witch wrapped in a traveling cloak.

"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Stan happily as Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.

All the time that this happened, I felt eyes bearing into my face as I looked out of the window, as if analyzing me.

Stan had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinked slowly me and Harry. He looked strangely familiar.

"That man!" Harry said. "He was on the Muggle news!"

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled while I looked confused at where I'd seen him.

"Sirius Black," he said, nodding. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Neville. Where you been?"

My heart sank. That was my father. I started panicking to which Harry shot me a questioning look behind Stan's back.

Thankfully I was quite good at acting and kept my face blank.

Stan gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on mine, and now Harry's faces, removed the front page, and handed it to Harry.

"You oughta read the papers more, Neville."

Harry held the paper up to the candlelight and started reading. I looked over his shoulder and read:

_BLACK STILL AT LARGE_

_Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today. "We are doing all we can to recapture Black," said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."_

_Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

_"__Well, really, I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it — who'd believe him if he did?"_

_While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse. The magical community also be aware of Black's long lost daughter Andromeda Black, who we fear is either helping her father or in danger._

I leaned back away from the paper when I finished reading.

"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Stan, who had been watching me and Harry read.

"He murdered thirteen people?" said Harry, handing the page back to Stan, "with one curse?"

"Yep," said Stan, "in front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?"

"Ar," said Ern darkly.

Stan swiveled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Harry.

"Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-'Oo," he said.

"What, Voldemort?" said me and Harry at the same time, without thinking. Usually I would of spoken way before now but I was hyperventilating.

Even Stan's pimples went white; Ern jerked the steering wheel so hard that a whole farmhouse had to jump aside to avoid the bus.

"You's outta your tree?" yelped Stan. "'Choos say 'is name for?"

"Sorry," said Harry hastily. "Sorry, I — I forgot —"

"Forgot!" said Stan weakly. "Blimey, my 'eart's goin' that fast…"

"So — so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?" Harry prompted apologetically. If I hadn't lost faith that I was ever going to befriend Harry, it was gone now.

"Yeah," said Stan, still rubbing his chest. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to You-Know-'Oo, they say… anyway, when little 'Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-'Oo" — I saw Harry nervously flatten his bangs down again - "All You-Know-'Oo's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Ern? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-'Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once You-Know-'Oo 'ad taken over.

"Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Black took out 'is wand and 'e blasted 'alf the street apart, an' a wizard got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Black did then?" Stan continued in a dramatic whisper.

"What?" said Harry.

"Laughed," said Stan.

"Jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv em quiet as anyfink, still laughing 'is 'ead off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?"

"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Ern in his slow voice.

"Don' know if 'is daughter's the same." I now looked at the floor. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did…"

"They 'ad a job coverin' it up, din' they, Ern?" Stan said. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Ern?"

"Gas explosion," I said grumpily. Stan eyed me suspiciously.

"An' now 'e's out," said Stan, examining the newspaper picture of Black's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, 'as there, Ern? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?"

Ernie suddenly shivered. "Talk about summat else, Stan, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."

Stan put the paper away reluctantly, and Harry leaned against the window of the Knight Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Stan might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time.

"'Ear about that 'Arry Potter? Blew up 'is aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Knight Bus, di'n't we, Ern? 'E was tryin' to run for it…"

I stifled a laugh at the guilty expression on Harry's face.

The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees. And after while, Stan must've remembered that Harry had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Harry's pillow, while I laughed, when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.

Finally, me and Harry were the only passengers left.

"Right then, Neville," said Stan, clapping his hands and forgetting that I was even there, "whereabouts in London?"

"Diagon Alley," said Harry.

"Righto," said Stan. "'Old tight, then."

BANG.

They were thundering along Charring Cross Road. Harry sat up and started watching buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter.

Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabby-looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.

"Thanks," me and Harry said to Ern.

We jumped down the steps and helped Stan lower Harry's trunk and bird cage onto the pavement.

"Well," said Harry. "Bye then!"

"Bye," I echoed.

But Stan wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"There you are, Harry," said a voice. "And oh my…"

Before I could turn, I felt a hand on my shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, "Blimey! Ern, come 'ere! Come 'ere!"

Harry and I looked up at the owner of the hand on our shoulders— we had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.

"What didja call Neville, Minister?" he said excitedly.

Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.

"Neville?" he repeated, frowning. "This is Harry Potter."

"I knew it!" Stan shouted gleefully.

"Yeah, you sure did," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"Ern! Ern! Guess 'oo Neville is, Ern! 'E's 'Arry Potter! I can see 'is scar!"

"Yes," said Fudge testily, "well, I'm very glad the Knight Bus picked Harry up and Andromeda too, but he, she and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now…"

Fudge increased the pressure on my shoulder, and me and Harry found ourselves being steered inside the pub.

A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord. I hadn't seen him since I was four.

"You've got him, Minister! And Andromeda too! Oh my, you've grown up so much!" said Tom. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"

"Perhaps a pot of tea," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Harry or me.

There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying Harry's trunk and owl cage and looking around excitedly.

"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Neville?" said Stan, beaming at Harry, while Ernie's owlish face peered interestedly over Stan's shoulder.

"And a private parlor, please, Tom," said Fudge pointedly.

"Bye," me and Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar.

"Bye, Neville!" called Stan.

Fudge marched Harry and I along the narrow passage after Tom's lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room with a smile to me.

"Sit down, Harry Andromeda," said Fudge, indicating to two chairs by the fire.

Harry and I sat down, and I felt goose bumps rising up my arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite Harry and me.

"I am Cornelius Fudge, Harry, Andromeda. The Minister of Magic."

I already knew this, of course, I mean, who doesn't know the git?

Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Harry and me and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.

"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring out tea, "you've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house like that! I'd started to think… but you're safe, and that's what matters."

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.

"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then… You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

Fudge smiled at Harry over the rim of his teacup, rather like an uncle surveying a favorite nephew. He opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.

"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays."

"I always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays," Harry said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive."

"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are fond of each other — er — very deep down."

"So all that remains," said Fudge, now buttering himself a second crumpet, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and…"

"Hang on," blurted Harry. "What about my punishment?"

Fudge blinked. "Punishment?"

"I broke the law!" Harry said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!"

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!"

I sniggered at this.

"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" he told Fudge, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!"

"Circumstances change, Harry… We have to take into account… in the present climate… Surely you don't want to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," said Harry.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge. "Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom's got a room for you."

Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done? And now Harry came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister of Magic himself to get involved in matters of underage magic?

Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper.

"Room eleven's free, Harry, and Miss Black, room twelve" said Fudge. "I think you'll both be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand… I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. Sure you'll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me."

"Okay," said Harry slowly, "but why?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no… best we know where you are… I mean…"

"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked. I looked down.

"What's that? Oh, you've heard - well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I've ever seen them."

Fudge shuddered slightly.

"So, I'll say good-bye."

He held out his hand and Harry, shaking it, had a sudden idea.

"Er — Minister? Can I ask you something?"

"Certainly," said Fudge with a smile.

"Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could —?"

Fudge was looking uncomfortable.

"Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian —"

"But you're the Minister of Magic," said Harry eagerly. "If you gave me permission…"

"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't… yes… well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry."

And with a last smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left the room, ignoring me. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry and I.

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Potter, Andromeda," he said, "I've already taken your things up…"

Me and Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it and the door next to it was the same but it had a twelve printed across it. Tom unlocked and opened the doors for them.

Inside both was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of Harry's wardrobe was a beautiful, snowy owl.

"Hedwig!" Harry gasped.

The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry's arm.

"Very smart owl you've got there," chuckled Tom. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr. Potter, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave another bow and closed Harry's door.

"And Andromeda have a good sleep," he said bowing me into mine and closing my door.

I sighed and fell onto my bed.


	2. The Leaky Caldron

The Leaky Caldron

I woke early next morning and lay on my bed recounting what happened last night.

After a few minutes, I got up and grabbed some clothes out of my bag. Once dressed, I pulled my hair into a ponytail and put my locket around my neck. It had a photo of my mother on one side and a photo of my father on the other. I looked alot like my dad- well what he used to look like before he went to Azkaban: long black hair, grey eyes and even the same shaped face.

I sighed and walked out of my room and ran into someone right outside of it.

"Sorry," Harry apologised.

"No, it was my fault. I should've looked first."

"Er- do you want to come with me and get breakfast?" Harry asked

"Sure," was all I said.

We walked down the stairs into the pub and crossed over to the counter.

"Ah, the usual Andromeda?" Tom asked.

"Um, well, I don't know if it's the 'usual' anymore, but yes please," I said.

"And what would you like Mr. Potter?" Tom now turned to Harry.

"Can I please have some toast?"

Tom nodded and Harry and I sat at the nearest table.

"So-"

"I totally understand if you don't want to be my friend because of my father," I found myself saying.

"Er- I'm not going to criticize or hate you for something you didn't do. If Voldemort had a kid and they were nice and weren't like him, I wouldn't hate them because it isn't their fault how he turned out."

"But you don't know me. I'm definitely not a normal thirteen year old," I said.

"Trust me, neither am I," Harry said.

"Yeah, but do you have a dad who killed people?" I started saying. "Did you have to spend your whole life since you were four, picked on because you didn't know that you were magical or a metamorphmagus or an animagus? Did you have to come back to the place where people hate you because of you father, just because he broke out of Azkaban so you have to go to Hogwarts?" I wasn't angry but I was confused at why the famous Harry Potter would want to be friends with me when he didn't have to.

"No, no and no," Harry said checking off the questions on his fingers.

Suddenly, Tom appeared carrying a plate of toast and another plate of eggs and bacon.

"So what did you mean when you said you had to come back?" Harry asked curiously.

"My mother was killed by Voldemort the night he disappeared. Tom was wandering around when he found me. He brought me here and kept it a secret that I was alive so people wouldn't hurt me. When I was four, I left and snuck onto a plane. I didn't know where it was going but it landed in New York. Tom had a cousin over there who promised to take me in.

"About a week ago, she went out to do the groceries and didn't come back. I got worried. A few days after that the police came to our house and told me that she got shot in the chest. I came back here after that. "

"I'm sorry," Harry apologised.

"For what?"

"For making you repeat it when you probably didn't want to," he said in an ashamed voice.

"It's okay." It was quiet. We finished eating and went out to the backyard where there were only weeds and an old dustbin. Harry took out his wand and tapped a brick on the wall and the bricks moved until it formed a perfectly shaped archway.

"Er- this is Diagon Alley," Harry said awkwardly.

"Wow," was all I could say. I looked at Harry and he smiled at me. I smiled back knowing that for the first time in my life, I had a friend.

Life at the Leaky Caldron was different than what I'm used to. Harry and I spend time together alot. I learnt about the journeys he and his friends Ron and Hermione had had and how his life at the Dursley's was. It was good hanging out with Harry. He's so nice to everybody, well except his enemies: Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape. We kept to the promise Harry made of not wondering off and Harry had nicknamed me Andy.

Harry and I ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where they liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woollen balaclava.

After breakfast both Harry and I would go out into the backyard, take out our wands, figure out who gets to tap the wall, tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

Harry and I spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafes, where their fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("It's a lunascope, old boy — no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black to which I would go temporarily deaf ("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban"). Harry didn't have to do his homework under the blankets by flashlight anymore; now he could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, finishing all his essays with help from me who looked through _A History of Magic_ and occasional help from Florean Fortescue who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch burnings, gave Harry and Andromeda free sundaes every half an hour.

Once Harry had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, he had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. I asked the goblins if I had a vault, to which the goblins showed me to a vault which had gems, jewels and a letter from my mother and another from my father. The first letter said:

_Andromeda,_

_I will probably be gone before you read this. I want you to know that your father and I love you more than anything and always will. If I'm dead and your father is still alive, don't turn on him. He is a good guy._

_If you want to learn more about me than here I go:_

_My name is Emily Black. I used to have a brother Remus Lupin. My best friends are the Marauders (Your dad, my brother, Peter Pettigrew and James Potter), Lily Evans, Dorcas Meadows and Mary Macdonald. Remus, Dorcas, Mary, and Peter are in hiding. We are about to. Lily and Jjames have a son, Harry. You two get on well._

_Mum._

Tears fell from my eyes as I finished. I turned to the next letter and read:

_My darling angle,_

_This is the last thing I will probably say (or should I say write?) to you. I'm about to do something really stupid. My friend Peter Pettigrew has betrayed us. Your mother has gone to the Potter's and is going to try and protect them. I promise I won't kill Peter but I will try. Please believe I'm innocent._

_James, Lily, Dorcas, Remus, Mary and your mother are my best friends (Pettigrew isn't anymore). I wouldn't betray anyone. I love you._

_Dad_

_P.S. This was your mother's. I promised her that I will pass it on to you._

Inside was a necklace. It was weird. It had a black chain made of string and hanging off of it was a grey, circular jewel about a centimeter thick and approximately five centimeters long.

I put it around my neck which left a couple of centimeters until it would be too small.

I found Harry just outside Gringotts and explained everything that happened in the vault. 

We had to keep reminding ourselves that we had five years to go at Hogwarts. We had to stop ourselves from buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones (a wizarding game rather like marbles, in which the stones squirt a nasty-smelling liquid into the other player's face when they lose a point). Harry was sorely tempted, too, by the perfect, moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which would have meant he never had to take another Astronomy lesson. But the thing that tested both mine and Harry's resolution most appeared in our favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after we'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harry and I edged our way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until I glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom I had ever seen in my life.

"Just come out — prototype —" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harry and I, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of Harry and I moved, and we were able to read the sign next to the broom:

** THE FIREBOLT **

THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAM-LINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.

Price on request… I didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost.

Neither me nor Harry asked for the price, but we returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt. And despite all of my begging of him not to, Harry bought me a beautiful black bird with large grey eyes. He said it was a late birthday present and he wouldn't let me buy something for him.

There were, however, things that Harry and I needed to buy. We went to the Apothecary to replenish our store of potions ingredients, and as Harry's school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg and I didn't have any, we visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, we had to buy our new schoolbooks, which would include those for our two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.

We got a surprise as we looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of _The Monster Book of Monsters_. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

As Harry and I entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying toward us.

"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes," said Harry, "I need —"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harry aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

"Hang on," said Harry quickly, "I've already got one of those, but Andy needs one."

"Have you?" A look of enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning —"

A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart.

"Stop it! Stop it!" cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the Invisible Book of Invisibility — cost a fortune, and we never found them…"

He opened the caged and struggled to get one of the bullies. He go one and snapped it shut.

"Well… is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down his booklist, "We need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky."

"Ah, starting Divination, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harry and I into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.

"Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down two thick, black-bound books. "Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods — palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails."

I pulled my booklist out of my jacket pocket and consulted it for the first time while Harry was staring at a book.

"Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you," said the manager lightly, looking to see what Harry was staring at. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death."

But Harry continued to stare at the front cover of the book I looked too; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes.

The manager pressed Unfogging the Future into Harry's and my hands.

"Anything else?" he said.

"Yes," said Harry, tearing his eyes away from the dog's and dazedly consulting his booklist. "Er — we need Intermediate Transfiguration, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three and I need One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore,Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander**."**

Harry and I emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with our new books under our arms and made our way back to the Leaky Cauldron.

As the days slipped by, Harry started looking wherever he went for a sign of Ron or Hermione. I wanted to meet them as well. Plenty of Hogwarts students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Harry introduced me to Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, our fellow Gryffindors, in Quality Quidditch Supplies, where they too were ogling the Firebolt; we also ran into the real Neville Longbottom, a round-faced, forgetful boy, outside Flourish and Blotts. We didn't stop to chat; Neville appeared to have mislaid his booklist and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother.

I woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that I would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express. I got up, dressed, met Harry in the pub, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where we'd have lunch, when someone yelled Harry's name and we turned.

"Harry! HARRY!"

A girl with bushy brown hair and tanned skin was sitting there, as was a boy with red hair and lots of freckles. I guessed that this was Hermione and Ron.

"Finally!" said Ron, grinning at Harry as he sat down. There were no chairs left for me to sit on. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and —"

"I got all my school stuff last week," Harry explained while realizing my problem and pulled me onto his lap to which Hermione and Ron stared. "Er- this is Andromeda everyone. And how come you knew I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Dad," said Ron simply.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" said Hermione in a very serious voice.

"I didn't mean to," said Harry, while Ron roared with laughter and I smiled as I'd already had my fair share of laughing about it. "I just — lost control."

"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," admitted Harry. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" shrugged Ron, still chuckling. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"Excellent!" said Harry happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books —" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those Monster Books, eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I," said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies —"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Harry. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" asked Harry, while Ron and I sniggered. Hermione ignored us.

"I've still got ten Galleons," she said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book? said Ron innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol —"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," I said, as I knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl."

So they paid for their ice cream and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Ron, Hermione and I waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every colour, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-colour ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took.

Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er —." The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these —"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much — OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harry and I followed.

It took us nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.

"What was that?"

"It was either a very big cat or quite a small tiger," said Harry.

"Where's Hermione?" I asked.

"Probably getting her owl." Harry answered.

We made our way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As we reached it, Hermione came out, but she wasn't carrying an owl. Her arms were clamped tightly around the enormous ginger cat.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

That was a matter of opinion, I thought and by the look on Harry's face, he thought so too. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall.

Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop worrying, Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"Wonder why," said Ron sarcastically as they set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.

They found Mr. Weasley, Ron's dad, sitting in the bar, reading the Daily Prophet.

"Harry!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you? And who's this may I ask?"

"Fine, thanks, and this is Andromeda" said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione and I joined Mr. Weasley with their shopping. Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked while I went deaf for what seemed like the millionth time that week.

"No," said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" asked Ron. "It'd be good to get some more money —"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words." Andromeda's heart sank at these words; she was beginning to think that her father was innocent.

At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys' youngest child and only girl, Ginny.

She went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him.

Percy, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Harry had never met and said, "Harry. How nice to see you."

"Hello, Percy," said Harry. I was trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously, shaking hands.

"Very well, thanks —"

"Harry!" said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy —"

"Marvelous," said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand in turn. I was holding onto the bench, bending over in laughter. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," said Mrs. Weasley.

"Mum!" said Fred, as though he'd only just spotted her and seizing her hand, too. "How really corking to see you —"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said George, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny giggled. And I agreed. I wasn't a big fan of rules.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs. Weasley.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner…"

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told Harry. "But Mum spotted us. Who's this young lady?" He raised his eyebrows at Harry.

"This is Andromeda," Harry said. I smiled.

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and I ate our way through five delicious courses.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Fred as we dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr. Weasley.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Percy curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," said George seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them—"

"— for Humongous Bighead," said Fred.

Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," said Mr. Weasley, "and as I work there, they're doing me a favor…"

"Good thing, too," said Mrs. Weasley briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? And we've got another as well," Mrs. Weasley smiled at me. "A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground… You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Percy, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy.

I was just about to open my door when Harry stopped me.

"I want to tell you something. I've been keeping it to myself for ages now. I didn't know what to say but here goes. Will you go out with me?"

I lost my breath.

Finally is said: "I'd love to."

Harry hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I smiled and slipped into my room, happier than I'd ever been in my life. There was yelling in the next room but I was too deep in my thoughts to realize. I fell asleep easily and my dreams focused on one particular green-eyed boy in room eleven.


	3. The Dementor

Tom woke me the next morning with his usual toothless grin and a cup of tea. I got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled cloud (I named my owl) to get back into her cage when there was a knock on the door. Cloud flew into her cage and I crossed the room to find Hermione standing outside with a smile.

"Hi I just came to warn you that we'll be going soon," she said.

"Thanks." She left as Ron walked past to Harry's room.

I locked Cloud's cage and grabbed my trunk.

I headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly. Someone came up behind me and pulled me into a hug that felt way too familiar. I turned around and leaned in to the hug wrapping my arms around Harry.

"Morning," I mumbled into his chest.

"Morning," he replied.

"Ewww, we don't need to see anything," Fred and George said identically.

I pulled out but kept my arms around Harry.

"We were just hugging," I said.

"And we weren't doing anything," Harry finished.

"Ah see here George, they're already finishing off sentences," Fred guffawed.

"Oh shut up," Harry and I said together. The twins walked off laughing. Ron and Hermione made their way towards us.

What were you saying?" Ron asked Harry as we all sat down.

"Later," Harry muttered as Percy stormed in.

Harry had no chance to speak to Ron, Hermione or I in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig, Cloud and Hermes, Percy's screech owl, perched on top in their cages. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You won't," snapped Ron. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.

Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.

"They're here," he said. "Harry, Andromeda, come on."

Mr. Weasley marched Harry and I across the short stretch of pavement toward the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet.

"In you get, Andromeda, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the crowded street.

We got into the back of the car and was shortly joined by Hermione, Ron, and, to Ron's disgust, Percy.

The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful compared with mine and Harry's trip on the Knight Bus.

We reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mr. Weasley, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights.

Mr. Weasley kept close to both mine and Harry's elbows all the way into the station.

"Right then," he said, glancing around them. "Let's do this in pairs or threes, as there are so many of us. I'll go through first with Harry and Andromeda."

Mr. Weasley strolled toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing mine and Harry's trolleys and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry and me, he leaned casually against the barrier. We imitated him.

In a moment, we had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.

Percy and Ginny suddenly appeared behind Harry. They were panting and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.

"Ah, there's Penelope!" said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. I caught Harry's eye, and we both turned away to hide our laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn't miss his shiny badge.

Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined us, Harry and Mr. Weasley led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. We loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig, Cloud and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione and Harry and surprisingly, me. I was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave both me and Harry an extra hug.

"Do take care, won't you Harry? And you too Andromeda?" she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her enormous handbag and said, "I've made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ron… no, they're not corned beef… Fred? Where's Fred? Here you are dear…"

"Harry, Andromeda," said Mr. Weasley quietly, "come over here for a moment."

He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Harry and I followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs. Weasley.

"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave —" said Mr. Weasley in a tense voice.

"It's all right, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, "We already know."

"You know? How could you know?"

"I — er — I heard you and Mrs. Weasley talking last night. I couldn't help hearing," Harry added quickly. "Sorry —"

"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said Mr. Weasley looking anxious.

"No — honestly it's okay. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on. And Andy is smart and had her suspicions when we met Fudge."

"Harry, Andromeda you must be scared —"

"We're not," said Harry sincerely. "Really," he added, because Mr. Weasley was looking disbelieving. "We're not trying to be heroes, but seriously, Sirius Black can't be worse than Lord Voldemort, can he?"

Mr. Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it.

"Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and after everything you must've been through Andromeda, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared, but —"

"Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. "Arthur, what are you doing? It's about to go!"

"They're coming Molly!" said Mr. Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and I and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice, "Listen, I want you to give me your word —"

"— that we'll be a good boy and girl and stay in the castle?" said Harry gloomily.

"Not entirely," said Mr. Weasley, looking very serious. "Both of you swear to me you won't go looking for Black."

There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.

"Promise me, Harry," said Mr. Weasley, talking more quickly still, "that whatever happens —"

"Why would we go looking for someone we know wants to kill us?" I asked blankly.

"Swear to me that whatever you might hear —"

"Arthur, quickly!" cried Mrs. Weasley.

Steam was billowing from the train it had started to move. Harry grabbed my hand and we ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let us on. We leaned out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.

"We need to talk to you in private," I muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.

"Go away, Ginny," said Ron.

"Oh, that's nice," said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.

This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. He looked _very _familiar.

Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione checked on the threshold. Harry told me that the Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray. Realization came over me and my hand closed over my locket.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.

"Remus Lupin," I said at the same time Hermione said, "Professor R. J Lupin."

Harry and Ron stared at us. I took my locket off and handed it to Harry. He opened it and looked from the locket to Remus.

"Is this your-"

"Mum? Yes. The other photo is my dad," I said sadly.

"So that's your uncle?" I nodded handing him both of the letters from my vault and he started reading them.

How'd you know that?" Ron asked Hermione.

"It's on his case," she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," whispered Hermione. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had already had two Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had lasted only one year. There were rumors that the job was jinxed.

Harry finished reading and I saw that his eyes were watery. He tried to hide it before someone saw, but he saw that I was watching him.

"Do you think he is innocent?" Harry asked.

"He could be. He didn't exactly say you," I replied.

Ron and Hermione weren't paying attention. Harry pulled me onto his lap and hugged me again because he knew what it was like losing family.

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Ron doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway…" he turned to Harry and I, "what were you going to tell us?"

Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he'd finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth. She finally lowered them to say, "Sirius Black escaped to come after you two? Oh, Harry… Andromeda… you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble…"

"I don't go looking for trouble," said Harry, nettled. "Trouble usually finds me."

"How thick would Harry and Andromeda have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill them?" said Ron shakily.

They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much more frightened of Black than he was. They still didn't know that he was he father.

"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," said Ron uncomfortably. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner too."

"But they'll catch him, won't they?" said Hermione earnestly. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too…"

"What's that noise?" said Ron suddenly. I looked around.

A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.

"Is that a Sneakoscope?" said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.

"Yeah… mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Hermione shrewdly.

"No! Well… I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys… but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"

"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry advised as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up."

He nodded toward Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," said Ron, sitting back down. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" asked Hermione keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain —"

"Yeah, I think it is," said Ron in an offhand sort of way. "But that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" said Hermione.

"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got everything… Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next–"

Andromeda liked food and was almost drooling.

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —"

"– and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.

Hermione looked around at Harry and I.

"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"

"'Spect it will," said Harry heavily. "You'll have to tell us when you've found out."

"What d'you mean?" said Ron.

"We can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign Harry's permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either and I don't have a guardian. Unless," I looked at Remus but frowned. "Nah. He's not my parent or guardian. Oh well, at least I can spend more time with Harry."

Ron mimicked throwing up and Hermione looked a little faint.

When they finished their little show, Ron looked horrified.

"You're not allowed to come? But — no way — McGonagall or someone will give you permission —"

Harry gave a hollow laugh. Apparently Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house, was very strict.

"– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle —"

"Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "I don't think Harry and Andromeda should be sneaking out of the school with Black on the loose —"

"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when we ask for permission," said Harry bitterly.

"But if we're with them," said Ron spiritedly to Hermione. "Black wouldn't dare —"

"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," snapped Hermione. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry and Andromeda just because we're there?" She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks's basket as she spoke.

"Don't let that thing out!" Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron's knees; the lump in Ron's pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.

"Ron, don't!" said Hermione angrily.

Ron was about to answer back when Remus stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened overhead. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.

At one o'clock the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Remus. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione approached Remus cautiously.

"Er — Professor?" she said. "Excuse me — Professor?"

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," said the witch, as she handed a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

"I suppose he is asleep?" said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean — he hasn't died, has he?"

"No, no, he's breathing," whispered Hermione, taking the cauldron cake Harry passed her.

He might not be very good company- well at least not to Ron, Hermione and Harry, but Remus's presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, we heard footsteps outside in the corridor again, and our three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. I didn't know them personally, but from what I've heard, they are bad.

Draco Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first journey to Hogwarts. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face and weirdly enough, almost the same color grey eyes as me and also was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harry played on the Gryffindor team.

Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy's bidding. They were both wide and muscley; Crabbe was taller, with a pudding-bowl haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.

"Well, look who it is," said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. "Potty and the Weasel. And my dear cousin Blacksie, too!"

"Wait you're related to this creep?" Hermione demanded.

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," said Malfoy, forgetting everyone else. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Remus gave a snort.

"Who's that?" said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Remus.

"New teacher," said Harry, who got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. "What were you saying, Malfoy?"

"Whatever, but before I go, Blacksie over there with her boyfriend Potter, is probably going to end up just like her father."

"That's it! You can say whatever you want about me, but don't ever bring my dad or mum or any of my family into anything! I have my family and you have yours, but all your family is worth is living up to the family name of being a mouthful of shit!" I yelled like I'd never yelled before.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously and stepped towards me. I clenched my hand in a fist and was about to swing at him, but Harry held on to me so I couldn't. Remus gave another snort.

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.

"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.

"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and —"

Ron made a violent gesture in midair.

"Ron," hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, "be careful…"

But Remus was still fast asleep.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Remus slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast…"

"We can't be there yet," said Hermione, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

I was nearest to the door so I got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt and as I didn't have a firm grip, I flew backwards into the window which smashed, and distant thuds and bangs told us that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and we were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice from somewhere. I felt dizzy and felt sharp pains on the back of my head and my upper left arm. Someone grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me onto the seat gently. I heard a gasp as they studied the back of my head.

"Andy are you alright?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Yeah," I said sleepily. _Man, that hurts,_ I thought. Everything was coming clearer and I found myself staring into a pair of green eyes. I smiled.

I sat up carefully and looked around. Everything was dark. I leaned back into Harry who had his arms around me. He started carefully pulling pieces of glass out of the wound on my head.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno…"

There was a squeaking sound, and I saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard…"

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over mine and Harry's legs.

"Sorry! D'you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry —"

"Hullo, Neville," said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down —"

There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Hermione's voice. I felt her pass her, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron —"

"Come in and sit down —"I said.

"Not here!" said Harry hurriedly. "We're here!"

"Ouch!" said Neville.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly. Remus appeared to have woken up at last. I could hear movements in his corner.

" Finally you wake up Uncle Remus, man, you could sleep through an earthquake," I said disbelievingly.

"Andromeda?" asked Remus uncertainly.

"The one and only," I replied. "But now isn't exactly the best time for a family reunion."

No one spoke.

There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Remus appeared to be holding a handful of flames.

They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are." he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Remus could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Remus's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. My eyes darted downward, and my stomach contracted. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…

But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed my gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. I felt my own breath catch in my chest. The cold went deeper than my skin. It was inside my chest, it was inside my very heart…

My eyes rolled up into my head. I couldn't see. I was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in my ears as though of water. I was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder…

And then, from far away, I heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams… a thick white fog was swirling around me, inside me —

"_Hand over the girl," a high, cold voice demanded._

"_No, please!" A woman pleaded and then screamed as another female and male shouted at the same time, "crucio." _

_The first guy laughed, making his voice even higher. "Bella, Lucius, a little more of the Cruciatus curse."_

_The two firing curses said, "Yes master."_

"_Kill the girls, both of them," he ordered._

"_No, I can't, they're my family, my niece and sister-in-law! I can't kill them! I already lost Sirius and I didn't sign up for this! Please!" another man begged urgently._

"_You are no use to me!" the guy with the high voice said. "Avada Kedavera."_

"_No Regulus!" the pleading woman screamed not from the curses being thrown her way._

"_Avada Kedavera," the man said again and the woman screamed for the last time-_

"Andy! Please wake up! Please!" a voice begged. Someone shook me gently.

"Alright don't lose your head," I said groggily, tears rolling down my cheeks.

Harry hugged me close and Remus bent over me.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

Harry helped me up onto the seat. I was shaking, not from the cold.

"Andy what happened?" Harry asked concerned.

"I think… I think I just listened to my uncle and mother being killed," I said shakily. Remus stiffened on the other side of me. "Remus, do you know a Lucius and Bella? They were torturing my mother."

"You don't mean Bella as in Bellatrix? And Lucius Malfoy?"

"I think so… did they work for Voldemort?" Hermione and Ronr flinched.

"Yes."

"Then I guess that's them," I said. "Where have I heard the name Bellatrix before?"

"Did anyone mention anything about your father's family?"

"Probably."

"Look please don't freak out, but you're related to the Malfoy's and Bellatrix, they're your dad's cousins," Remus explained. Remus broke a slab of chocolate and handed a piece each to everyone.

"Here," he said handing some to me and Harry. "Eat, it'll help."

"Back to what happened, what were those things?" I asked.

"And who screamed?" Harry asked.

"No one screamed," Ron said.

"But I heard screaming –"

"That thing was a Dementor," said Remus. "One of the Dementors of Azkaban."

We all stared at him. Remus crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"

He strolled past Harry and I and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Andromeda, Harry?" said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.

"I don't get it… what happened?" said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.

"Well — that thing — the Dementor — stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face) — and you two— you —"

"I thought you both were having a fit or something," said Ron, who still looked scared. "You both went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching —"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the Dementor, and pulled out his wand," said Hermione, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the Dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away…"

"I felt weird," said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again…"

"But didn't any of you — fall off your seats?" said Harry awkwardly.

"No," said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry and me again. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though…"

Remus had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…"

Harry took a bite as I had taken one as soon as I got a piece.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," said Professor Lupin. "Are you all right, Harry?"

"Fine," he muttered, looking embarrassed.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

"Firs' years this way!" called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All right, you three? Or four should I say? Hello Andromeda, I haven't seen you since you was a little baby, you look a lot like you dad," Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, I could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw. I felt better since the chocolate, but still weak an it seemed like ages ago. Ron and Hermione kept looking at me and Harry sideways, as though frightened we might collapse again.

As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, I saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf me again; I leaned back into the Harry and closed my eyes until we had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.

As Harry and I stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in my ear.

"You fainted, Potter? Black? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?"

Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry's way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.

"Shove off, Malfoy," said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" said Malfoy loudly. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage.

Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no — er —Professor," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.

"They're just the biggest gits ever Uncle Moony," I explained. Remus looked shocked that I knew his old nickname but brushed away nonetheless and nodded us through the doors.

Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry and I followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Potter! Granger! Andromeda! I want to see you three!"

Harry, Hermione and I turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor House, was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. We fought our way over to her with a feeling of foreboding: Professor McGonagall had a way of making me feel he must have done something wrong and I hadn't even been at school for five minutes! Not that I minded.

"There's no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office," she told us. "Move along there, Weasley."

Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered me, Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; we accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.

Once we were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned us to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were both taken ill on the train, Potter, Andromeda."

Before anyone could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in.

It was bad enough that we'd passed out, or whatever we had done, without everyone making all this fuss.

"We're fine," I said, "We don't need anything —"

"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Madam Pomfrey, ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at Harry. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a Dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, now making an issue over my arm. "They won't be the last ones who collapse. Yes, they're all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate —"

"I'm not delicate!" said Harry crossly. "And Andy definitely isn't!"

"Of course you're not," said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking both of their pulses.

"What do they need?" said Professor McGonagall crisply. "Bed rest? Should they perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?"

"We're fine!" I said, jumping up. The thought of what Draco Malfoy would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture. Madam Pomfrey caught sight at the back of my head and gasped. McGonagall gasped too. I rolled my eyes at their overreaction.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"I was standing when the train stopped and I went backwards into the window. It doesn't hurt anymore; Harry already got the glass out."

"Well if you insist, we should clean it up at least." Madam Pomfrey took out her wand, pointed it at my head and said, "_scorgify_."

"Well, they should have some chocolate, at the very least now that's cleared up," said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into my eyes.

"We've already had some," I said. "Remus gave me some. He gave it to all of us."

"Did he, now?" said Madam Pomfrey approvingly. "So we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?"

"Are you sure you feel all right, Potter, Andromeda?" Professor McGonagall said sharply.

"Yes," said Harry and I answered.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together. Oh and Andromeda," Professor McGonagall peered at m calculatingly. "While you are here, Professor Lupin is your teacher and you should do well to remember that at Hogwarts, he is Professor Lupin."

Harry and I went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. We had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the four of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.

"I was wondering where you guys had been," Ron shook his head. "I was bloody worried!"

It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was standing in front of an ancient hat and a three-legged stool at the front of the hall.

"Oh," said Hermione softly, "we've missed the Sorting!"

New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry, Hermione and I set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, toward the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry and I. Had the story of us collapsing in front of the Dementor traveled that fast?

He and Hermione sat down on either side of Ron, who had saved them seats and I sat next to Harry uncertainly as I had not been sorted.

"What was all that about?" Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.

Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles, and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn't why I respected him. You couldn't help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as I watched him beaming around at the students, I felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.

"Welcome!" said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we move onto anything else, we have three new student to welcome into their third year. Can I please have out the front, Noah Pettigrew," I stiffened at the name 'Pettigrew'. "Dorcas Lupin," I now sent Remus a confused look and he looked confused as well. "And Andromeda Black."

"Andromeda Black?"

"_Black? _As is Sirius Black?"

I stood up as did a boy with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes and a girl who looked like a younger, female version of Remus. All three of us made our way to the front.

Flitwick ushered me to sit down on the stool. I sat and he placed the hat on my head. A voice was whispering in my ear.

"_Well, well, well, another Black eh? You have all the traits of all houses. Hmmm... congratulations, you are the most complicated student yet._

"_You are loyal and would do well in Hufflepuff, but you're also smart and could also belong to Ravenclaw. You are brave, very brave indeed._

"_Your whole family have been in Slytherin, did you know that? Your mother was sorted as Gryffindor though, so was your father._

"_You are just like him aren't you? Not just in looks but you are full of energy and life and fun. He isn't guilty you know... so back to sorting. Where to put you? Hufflepuff? No. Ravenclaw? No. Slytherin, though despite your cunning nerve and family, no. So I guess it's _GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat shouted the last word to the hall and the Gryffindors cheered, while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were silent except for a couple of claps and Slytherin were groaning at the loss of yet _another_ Black.

I sat down in my chair next to Harry who kissed my cheek and he was also the last to stop cheering.

Dorcas Lupin sat on the chair and a second later the hat declared her as a Gryffindor. She sat down next to me and me and Remus were the last to stop clapping, to which Harry looked at me, confused. I shook my head to tell him I'll tell him later. He got the message.

Noah Pettigrew was hardly sitting for three seconds before he became a Gryffindor. Dorcas clapped louder than anyone and he sat next to her. Dumbledore stood again.

"I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused, and I remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry, Ron and I glanced at each other. Harry had told me about the cloak.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the Dementors," he said.

Percy, who was sitting a few seats down from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively.

Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. That is except from me. I shouted out, "Woohoo!" before anyone could stop me.

Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them. Remus looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.

"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed in Harry's ear. I heard.

Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Remus. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, but even me, who hated Snape from what I'd heard, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. I knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore when he then glared at me.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continued as the lukewarm applause Remus died away. "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I stared at one another, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular. Harry and I leaned forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. I, suddenly ravenous, helped myself to everything I could reach and began to eat. It was delicious.

"So… I'm Dorcas Lupin," Dorcas introduced to me. "And this is Noah Pettigrew."

"Hi, I'm Andromeda Black and this here," I patted Harry in the head to which he smiled over at Dorcas and Noah. "Is my boyfriend, Harry Potter."

"Hi," Noah said. Harry waved.

"Are you related to Uncle Remus by any chance?" I asked Dorcas.

"I'm his daughter. My mother was Dorcas Meadows. He doesn't know I am his. Mum found out she was pregnant and left without telling him," Dorcas explained.

"You have to tell him!" I said urgently, not wanting anyone to suffer in pain.

"I am after dinner," she said. " Did you say he was your uncle?"

"Yeah."

"Can you come with me to talk to him? Please?"

"Ok," I put my hands up in surrender.

"So, Dorkie? How much do you and Noah know about the Marauders?" I asked with an evil grin at Harry. I had told him about the Marauders and how his dad was one. He wore an identical grin.

"My mum left a letter saying something about them. Apparently they were the pranksters of the school," she answered. "And it's Dorcas, not Dorkie."

"I know, it's your new nickname."

"So what did you want to know about the Marauders for?" Noah asked.

"Ok, where to start… well you know that the Marauders are pranksters, well their names are Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. That was their nicknames for each other. Their actual names are Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter and Sirius Black.

"Well our fathers were Marauders, what about we be the next generation of them? We'll make names for ourselves and at anytime we can call each other those names or the names our fathers used. Any suggestions on names?"

"Can I be… eh, I'll stick with Wormtail, but Wormy for short," Noah said.

"I'll stay as Moony," Dorkie (shhh don't tell her that hehehe) said.

"I'm staying as Prongs," Harry said.

"Fine! I'll stay as Padfoot," I said.

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as they reached the teachers' table. The new 'Marauders all approached Remus after Harry and I gave Hagrid a thumbs up. Remus looked up.

"Er- hi!" Dorkie said. Then – "I'myourdaughter,"

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Remus said.

Dorkie took a breath and said, "I'm your daughter." Remus stared.

"But who –"

"Dorcas Meadows," Dorkie answered his unfinished question.

"Oh," Remus gasped. He turned to Noah "So are you –"

"Peter Pettigrew is my father and Mary Macdonald is my mother," Noah explained.

"Holy crap!" I exclaimed, startling everyone. "I need to ask a question Remmy!"

Remus groaned at the new nickname. "You are Sirius all over."

"What was he like? My dad?" I asked.

"He was a great friend, I would never have believed he done all of what he did," Remus replied. McGonagall was now coming our way.

"Well, congratulations and bye!" I said. We turned and went before McGonagall reached us.

We caught up with the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower, where a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"

"Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's Fortuna Major!"

"Oh no," said Neville Longbottom sadly. Apparently, he always had trouble remembering the passwords.

Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. I climbed the spiral stair with no thought in my head except how glad I was to be here. I reached a circular dormitory with five four-poster beds. My stuff was at the end of one so I got dressed it my pajamas and fell into bed, falling asleep almost at once.

I dreamed of a werewolf, a great big black dog, a stag and a rat. Pieces of information started forming and I had an answer for something.


End file.
